


Coming Undone

by OneEqualTemper



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cigarettes, Dominance, F/M, Minor Hermione Granger/Blaise Zabini, Minor Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Non-Sexual Submission, Pining, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Sex Positive, Submission, Tattooed Sirius Black
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-26 18:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30110043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneEqualTemper/pseuds/OneEqualTemper
Summary: Hermione’s not sure when it happened. There wasn’t a moment when she stopped and thought,wow, I really fancy him!The thought must’ve crept into her mind and she allowed it to stay there because it seemed harmless at the time. But that thought slowly grew, taking over her attraction to other men until he was the only one she thought of any longer.But then she accidentally floos to Grimmauld and when the soot settles she blinks at the sight of Sirius staring at her with raised eyebrows and...something else filling his face. The apology is nearly out of her mouth when she notices a petite body at his feet. There’s a naked woman kneeling at his feet and her only accessory happens to be...is that a collar?
Relationships: Sirius Black/Hermione Granger
Comments: 14
Kudos: 85





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> If you’ve read my other story _Poet_ , this story is nothing like it. In fact, the inspiration for this isn’t classical music and my favourite poem, but the song Coming Undone by Korn. Yes, you read that correctly. I’m a music fan first with varied tastes. The same can be said for other things in my life which you’ll find in Coming Undone.
> 
> I try not to write two different things at the same time, but the brief for this story spilled out of me while in the middle of _Poet_ and I couldn’t stop it. I’ve included appropriate warnings in the tags but if you know my style of writing you’ll know it won’t all be smut. Oh also, Sirius is clearly not dead.
> 
> Enjoy xx

_Guess the_ **_black_ ** thoughts have come and came to get me  
 _Sweet bitter words unlike nothing I have heard  
Sing along, mockingbird, you don't affect me_

Hermione’s not sure when it happened. There wasn’t a moment when she stopped and thought, _wow, I really fancy him!_ She didn’t have an epiphany one evening while in bed, or inappropriate thoughts one morning while in the shower. There wasn’t a moment to pinpoint and certainly not a date and time. 

One day it must’ve started innocently. The thought must’ve crept into her mind and she allowed it to stay there because it seemed harmless at the time. But that thought slowly grew, taking over her attraction to other men until he was the only one she thought of any longer. It was an accident! Besides, no one knew, certainly not Harry. 

So what if she thought of him on her way to work? Who cares if she contemplated his grin when a snide comment flew through her mind? Did it really matter that she’d pulled out only the books from Grimmauld Place to read before bed?

No. She didn’t think so. It was just a crush and crushes come and go without a second thought. She wasn’t harming anyone, she wasn’t _obsessed_ with him. She just thought him fit and polite and intelligent and...possibly a nice partner. It’s not like she would ever act on the crush. It just filled the deepest darkest crevices of her mind that weren’t already occupied by work, research and her current non-existent sex life. 

You know, that was probably it. A Witch not having sex was liable to think of Wizards she couldn’t have. No harm, no foul. Just an innocent I-really-need-someone-to-have-sex-with-me crush that would go away as soon as she found someone to follow through. Wizards shouldn’t be that difficult to find but she’d been entirely too busy the last few months.

She first thought of Draco but remembered their last conversation.

_“I’m gonna have to cut you off, Granger,” Draco breathed out, body sweaty from exertion and face tinged pink._

_Hermione flopped down next to him with a pat to his entirely too-muscular chest. At least he’d agreed to stop removing his chest hair, he looked much more like an adult and kept the cradle-robbing thoughts out of her head._

_“Cut me off of what?” Hermione asked, her lips dry and her core thrumming with the ends of her very powerful, very enjoyable orgasm._

_“I’m gonna court Tori,” Draco muttered, running his large hand through her curls._

_Hermione stiffened and moved away from the man who knew her body intimately. Him too? First Dean, then Neville, now Draco of all people? She climbed off of the Slytherin’s bed and stumbled over to her clothes strewn over the room. Her legs were stiff but she shoved them into her panties and her leggings as fast as she could do it._

_“You could have told me before,” Hermione muttered, doing up her bra and throwing on her sweater._

_“Don’t be sour, Granger,” Draco taunted. “Gimme one last kiss.”_

_Hermione scoffed and headed out of the room, “Never again.”_

No, definitely not Draco. How was it that in the last few months all of her sexual partners had decided to go and get into serious relationships? Bloody unfair it was.

Hermione grumbled to herself in her office as she packed up for the day. The whole entire thing was bloody fucking unfair and now she had her mind full of thoughts of a man she shouldn’t be thinking of. So really, it was Dean, Neville and Draco’s fault. They brought this on, they stopped keeping her mind occupied. Nevermind their chosen partners were entirely lovely. 

Her thoughts raced as she tried to think of someone not involved in a _dreadful_ relationship as she closed her bag and headed to her personal floo. Theo? No, she’s pretty sure Draco told her he had someone. Maybe Charlie, he’d be back for a few weeks from Romania. But, ugh, Ron. Hermione shook her head to rid herself of thoughts of Ron. It was probably better to not get involved with anyone else in that family. She didn’t think Charlie could be as bad as Ron, but to be honest, she didn’t think Ron could possibly be as bad as he was.

She needed more than a straight missionary fuck. She needed more than some nervous fingers fidgeting at her core and sloppy, wet open mouthed kisses on her lips. She needed _more_ and she needed to find someone who could give it to her, soon. Maybe Ginny would have a lead, she thought.

Hermione pulled her bag higher on her shoulder and grabbed a handful of floo powder. Without a second thought - her first being a tall, tattooed man with wavy dark hair - she dropped the floo powder and called out her destination: “Grimmauld Place!”

Wait- no, not Grimmauld Place. Hermione cursed her clearly evil mind for her slip of the tongue. She calmed her thoughts as she stepped out of the fireplace she knew well. Instead of going to the Potter’s, like she’d intended to, she was standing just outside of the sitting room fireplace at Grimmauld Place. Harry hadn’t lived here for more than two years now. Cursed thoughts, cursed mind!

When the soot settled she blinked at the sight of Sirius staring at her with raised eyebrows and...something else filling his face. The apology was nearly out of her mouth when she noticed a petite body at his feet and her breath and voice caught in her throat when she noticed that the body was also completely naked. There was a naked woman kneeling at his feet and her only accessory happened to be...is that a collar?

With a soft gasp Hermione clasped her hand over her eyes and took a step backwards to the fireplace.

“Oh Merlin, Sirius I’m so sorry. I can’t believe- it was a mistake. I meant to go to Harry’s, honest! I’m so sorry,” the apologies spill from her lips with her hand still pressed tightly over her eyes.

“Let me just- floo powder and I’ll…oh Merlin where’s the floo powder,” Hermione knows there’s a pot of floo powder up on the mantle and flapped her hand around until she felt it. She grasped a handful and threw herself back into the fireplace, dropping the powder and calling out Harry’s home before she could do anything else embarrassing.

She landed in the fireplace just outside of Harry and Ginny’s kitchen with her eyes wide and mouth open and coughed as the soot few into her windpipe. Hermione pulled her wand out to siphon it all away and shook her head at what she just saw. So he’s clearly kinky. Wonderful...more thoughts for her mind to entertain.

“'Mione? That you?”

Hermione cleared her mind and let out a deep breath. It will not be helpful to think of Sirius tonight. Especially not now. She slipped her shoes off and stepped into the kitchen where she can see Harry and Ginny setting the table for their weekly dinner.

“Hi Harry, hi Ginny,” Hermione muttered. She pulled off her cloak and tossed it into the coat closet then hung her bag off the back of an unused chair.

“You alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Ginny commented, a frown furrowing her light brows. She put down another plate then walked over to her friend to give her a hug.

“Something like that,” Hermione mumbled, wrapping her arms around the redhead. She pulled back to rub a hand over Ginny’s growing belly, “How’s my lovely nephew today?”

Ginny smiled and patted her belly, “Far too active. It’s getting to the point where you can just randomly see my belly move. Kind of gross, actually.”

Hermione hummed and leaned over to press a quick kiss to Harry’s cheek, his arm coming around her to give a half hug, “What did I hear about a ghost?”

Hermione groaned internally, not wanting to spill Sirius’ secrets or take part in uncomfortable conversations, “Not a ghost, just Sirius actually. I accidentally floo’d over there instead of here. My brain’s a bit of a mess today.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow, “Was he alright?”

“Oh he was _more than fine_ ,” Hermione said, giving a small wink to Ginny.

Ginny giggled and gasped excitedly, “Did you catch him giving it to someone?”

Hermione just nodded, better they think he was actually just having sex. She wasn’t sure how to describe it otherwise. _Well, you see, he was standing over a completely naked woman while he was completely dressed. And the woman wore a collar while she stared down at the ground_. Come to think of it, she hadn’t even looked at Hermione when she’d barged in.

“Ugh, gross,” Harry grumbled, bringing the take out containers over to the table. “Please, I don’t want to hear about this.”

Ginny snickered and shrugged her shoulders, “Oh come on Harry, he’s allowed to have sex.”

Harry stuck his fingers in his ears and trilled his tongue with inconsequential noise to avoid hearing anymore. Ginny whacked the back of his head with a few sheets of paper and Harry turned to glare at his wife.

“Can we please not have this conversation over dinner,” Harry begged, taking his seat.

Hermione rolled her eyes and sat across from him, “It wasn’t anything bad…”

“Nope! Don’t care, don’t want to know,” Harry said loudly. He passed her a container which she opened to find chicken tikka masala - her favourite.

“Did you talk to him?” Ginny asked, pouring out some rice and curry into a bowl. 

Harry huffed over his dinner plate but Hermione answered her, “Only to apologize. Then I just covered my eyes and floo’d here as quickly as I could.”

Ginny giggled at the picture, “Well I for one am glad he’s getting something. He deserves it.”

“Ginny,” Harry warned, his glare focussing on his wife.

“Oh shush Harry, would you rather we spoke about Hermione’s sex life?” Ginny asked. Harry groaned and reached down to rub his shin, the place Ginny’s must’ve just kicked.

“Speaking of my sex life…” Hermione trailed off, partially in jest and partially for real. Harry let his face slip into his hands, his fingers running through his unruly hair.

“I’m kidding Harry. Don’t worry, we’re done with the sex talk,” Hermione said, reaching over to pull his hands away from his face. “Promise, Ginny and I will just talk after.”

Hermione loved Harry and Ginny together. If perfect matches existed, Harry and Ginny would be considered a perfect match. They were friends and partners, able to exist in friendly conversation with others while also having time to make a baby. They were uncomplicated and enjoyed living a mostly stress free life. Harry deserved it after all he’d been through and Ginny was generally unconcerned about the thoughts and opinions of others. 

The three ate dinner together over pleasant conversation. Hermione told them how work was going and Ginny gleefully told Hermione about all the new wonderful changes her body was undergoing. Hermione grimaced only once before tucking it into her mind and plastering on her caring face. It’s not that she didn’t care, but the grimace was trying to take precedence. 

After they’d finished and Harry had gone to sit in the living room, Ginny bumped Hermione with her hip, “So, your sex life?”

Hermione quietly groaned, “It’s non-existent. They’ve all left me to be in _real relationships_.”

Ginny frowned at her friend and rubbed her shoulder, “I’m sorry ‘Mione. Maybe you should try dating again…”

Hermione frowned. Dating. If she was being honest, she despised it. Dates with random men who either knew her too well and or didn’t know a thing about her. Her record was 12 dates with 12 different men in the span of a month. She’d quickly decided that a shag did more for her than the dates and she’d put that notion to rest.

“I don’t know Gin, but I have to do something. This is like active suffering,” Hermione muttered.

She took the kettle off the stove when it started to whistle and poured the hot water into three mugs. 

“Maybe…” Ginny trailed off, a mischievous look on her face. “Maybe you should take Sirius for a ride?”

Hermione shook her head adamantly. _This isn’t helping, Ginny!_

“Definitely not. I think he’s already got his hands full…” Hermione trailed off. She grabbed the milk and poured a splash into each mug then the sugar for Harry. She’d memorized their tea preferences over the years. She even still remembered Ron’s, for what that’s worth.

She pulled a tray out from the cubby on the countertop and very carefully levitated the tea and tray into the living room where Harry was awaiting them with a scowl on his face.

“Are you two finished?” Harry grumbled, reaching out to take his usual mug. A deep sip and a sigh of satisfaction let Hermione know she’d made the tea perfectly.

Ginny rolled her eyes and plopped herself down next to Harry, “Yes, love. All finished. You have our full undivided attention now.”

“Only for about 10 minutes though, I’ve only got time for one cuppa. I’m bloody exhausted,” Hermione mentioned, the tea warming her body. 

“You don’t need to work as hard as you do, ‘Mione,” Harry reminded her, sending a pointed look in her direction. Ginny agreed, head rocking in a nod.

Yes, yes, it’s true. She worked far too hard for someone who no longer needed to work a day in her life. The money she’d been given alongside her Order of Merlin, First Class was enough for her to live on for the rest of her days, and then some. She liked working though - most of the time - as she found it kept her mind busy and brought something _else_ to her life. Most of her friends had been only too happy to settle down after the War, claiming their happiness lied with their partner.

 _Well piss on that_ , Hermione had thought at the time. She didn’t _need_ a partner to be happy, and she was perfectly content to prove it by getting a job that not only did she enjoy but helped people. She didn’t _need_ romance in her life, just a good shag every once in a while to keep her carnal desires satisfied. 

Of course, she now found herself without any such Wizards to satisfy those desires and a head full of her best friend’s godfather of all people. She blinked away the image of Sirius from earlier that night and refocused on the conversation.

“Might I remind you Harry that you also work far too hard,” Hermione muttered over the lip of her mug. She slurped her tea for extra emphasis. 

Ginny patted her partner’s thigh with a grin, “Didn’t Harry tell you ‘Mione? He’s taking leave once baby James is born.”

Hermione’s eyes lit up - truly - at the news. She’d been bothering Harry to take some time away from work once his son made an appearance. If anyone was aware that life was precious and could be yanked away at a moment’s notice, it was him. Baby James deserved a present and attentive father, and she knew Harry could fulfill that role so long as he was able to ignore aspects of his job.

“Kingsley understood, told me to take up to a year and they’d hold my spot. Also told me we could work on modifying the job once I’m back,” Harry shared with a smile.

“That really is great Harry! I told you he’d be alright with it, if anyone deserves time with their family it’s you,” Hermione said.

She sipped down the rest of her tea and peeked at her Muggle wristwatch before she stood. She waved her hand to collect the mugs and sent them on their way to the kitchen where she knew they’d get a good wash before settling back in the cupboard. 

“I’m off. I feel as if I haven’t slept in days,” Hermione muttered, running her fingers through her curls. The yawn that escaped her lips wasn’t just for affect. 

Harry and Ginny stood to see her off after she’d grabbed her cloak and bag and tucked her shoes back on. She pressed a peck to Harry’s cheek and swiped her palm over Ginny’s belly in goodbye.

“Oh, don’t forget, Sunday dinner is going to be at Grimmauld this week,” Ginny reminded, patting Hermione’s arm.

 _Shite_. Hermione’s insides burned at the implication of having to see Sirius so soon. 

“Your mum’s _still_ upset?” Hermione asked.

Ginny rolled her eyes, “Yes. She better get over it soon, James will be here in another month even without a wedding, despite her deepest wishes.”

Molly had been thrilled when Harry and Ginny decided to give their relationship a shot. She’d been less than pleased when Ginny ended up pregnant out of wedlock. From what Ginny had shared, Harry had tried to rectify the issue by proposing shortly after but the young redheaded Witch had refused on principle; she’d get married when she felt like it, baby or no baby.

She quirked an eyebrow at Harry who gave her a typical shrug of his shoulders. _Men_ , she thought. She reached over to run her palm over Ginny’s belly once more, “I’m sure she’ll come to her senses. I mean, you are her only daughter.”

“We’ll see, ‘Mione. Anyways, don’t forget. Sunday at 6:30,” Ginny reminded her again.

Hermione waved her off and hopped through the floo to her very quiet, very peaceful and very dark flat. She released a deep breath and closed her eyes in the silence. Her flat was small but perfect for her. She didn’t need anything more than this in her current situation in life. The kitchen opened up into the sitting area, which led to a single bedroom and a full washroom. That’s all she needed.

She dumped her bag on her couch and threw her cloak into her coat closet. She heard it fall from the hanger and slide to the floor but shrugged her very tired shoulders and headed back towards her bedroom. Yanking her socks off, she slid off her slacks, pulled her top overhead and undid her bra leaving everything on the floor.

By the time her head touched the pillow, her eyes were already closed.


	2. Two

A wild pecking at her window woke Hermione the next day. Her mouth was dry and eyes sticky with sleep as she blinked repeatedly to clear her vision. She rolled over to peer at her clock and groaned when she realized she’d slept through most of the day. With a flick of her wrist the bedroom window flew up and the blasted owl flitted into her room.

With a reprimanding squawk, the owl dropped the letter on the floor and left without waiting for a treat. Merlin knows how long it’d been pecking. Hermione ran her hand over her face - feeling the lines and indentations from her pillow - before trying to comb through the mess of tangled hair on her head. 

“Bloody fucking bird,” She grumbled, tumbling out of bed and reaching out for the forgotten letter. She internally grimaced at her language, knowing sooner rather than later she’d have to watch her mouth for the sake of her nephew.

With a yawn that left her jaw aching and droplets spraying outward, she opened the letter to see a short note from unfamiliar writing. Another rub to her eyes with the back of her hand did nothing but make her vision blur again. Her hand flapped behind her until she grasped her reading glasses and threw them on.

The glasses had been a relatively new development. Proud of her perfect 20/20 vision, she’d balked when the optometrist had explained the best thing for her astigmatism was a pair of glasses. Harry had nearly shrieked in excitement at the prospect of another person wearing them, but Hermione was stubborn and only used them when she had to.

_Hermione,_

_Going to pop by around 3. Put the kettle on?_

_Sirius_

Hermione ripped her glasses off with a scowl, tossing them over her bed. Bloody things didn’t even work! She shook her head and read over the note again, her heart beating hard against her sternum. She flopped back onto the floor and raised a hand to sooth her forehead. 

She should have assumed he’d want to have a conversation about what she’d walked in on, but she’d hoped Sirius would just ignore it and they could completely forget about it. She should’ve known better. Harry might not be blood related to the man but neither could just _leave something alone_. No, they just _had_ to confront it and deal with it. 

She much preferred her technique of ignoring things until they went away. 

She blinked at her clock again, seeing the blurry neon _2:37 p.m._ flashing at her and couldn’t stop the low growl from her chest. Just perfect. She could only imagine the state of her hair and face right now and she definitely didn’t have time to shower, dress _and_ put the kettle on. She settled for stumbling into her washroom and splashing on a layer of cold water and face wash.

She scowled at the deepest impression that ran down the side of her right cheek but ignored it to run her fingers through her tangled curls. The years had softened her hair, the curls had unravelled slightly, no longer tightly wound. Instead they hung limply, more a wave than a curl. It didn’t stop the tangles though, the thickness and texture content to tangle at the slightest brush of air or movement of her head.

Accepting her hair and face for what it was, she tugged on a thick sweater and pair of black leggings. She studied her torso in the mirror, ensuring it wasn’t obvious that she’d forgone a bra, and stuck her feet into her very comfortable, very fluffy slippers.

With seconds to spare, she set the kettle at the same time she heard the thud of someone floo’ing into her flat. _Here goes nothing_ , she thought to herself. She’d just apologize profusely, swear she’d never mention it again and hopefully he’d be happy to go on his way. Sirius wasn’t the type to be upset or angry, but what she’d seen the evening before was personal. That much was obvious.

“Hi love.”

Hermione whipped around from her spot staring at the kettle and did her best to offer him a completely normal smile. She feared it was anything but normal, but Sirius didn’t say anything and offered her a smile back.

“Hi Sirius.”

She watched as he pulled his wand out to siphon the soot from his slacks and plain sweater before he took a few steps into the room and towards her frozen spot in the kitchen. His face looked kind, no annoyance or anger lingering in his eyes. She pulled the corner of her lip into her mouth stamping the impression of her front tooth into the flesh. 

“Oh, you put the kettle on,” he murmured when he spied the white tea kettle hidden behind her still frozen stance.

Hermione nodded, “You asked me to, right?”

Sirius nodded with a soft smile and took a seat on one of her armchairs facing the kitchen area, “I did indeed. Good girl.”

Hermione spun around to face the kettle again, thanking the Gods the water was now boiling and the faint whistle started to sound in her flat. She gulped - actually _gulped_ \- at his words and pressed a hand against her chest in an effort to calm her heart. He’d said that to her before, surely. He must’ve.

Sirius was big on affectionate terms with everyone in his life. It wasn’t just her, he’d called Harry ‘my boy’ since fourth year and Ginny ‘red’ shortly after he’d met her. He referred to everyone else, men and women, with the affectionate moniker ‘love’ without a second thought. Did he have a name for her? She couldn’t remember now. _Gods dammit_ , she thought, her mind a puddle.

She cleared her throat, still facing the kettle, “Milk and sugar?”

“Both, love, please.”

Hermione nodded and took in a quiet breath, closing her eyes as she held it. _It’s just tea service_ , she thought to herself. She’d run tea service many times in her life, preparing it for her grandparents and her parents, helping her mother when they’d had people over for holidays.

She reached into the overhead cabinet and pulled down her service tray and china set she’d inherited from her grandmother when she’d passed away. The set always brought a smile to her face, reminding her of simpler times. She organized the tea cups, the sugar bowl and the milk jug before pouring the hot water from her electric kettle - she preferred it like that - into the decorative tea pot with two bags of earl grey and placed it too on the tray. The final touch was the spoons that matched the set. With a wave of her wand, she levitated the tray behind her and stepped carefully into her living room.

Sirius was watching her and she’d never been more thrilled that magic was real. She’d tripped and nearly dumped the whole set too many times to count when she’d had to carry it in her hands. With a subtle point of her wand the tray sat delicately on her coffee table.

She stood next to the tray and in front of Sirius. She wet her lips before asking, “Would you like me to…”

She trailed off but hoped he understood what she was asking. For her grandmother’s tea service she’d always been expected to prepare the tea but she knew that some people preferred to mix their own. She hoped that Sirius would wave her off from the more formal part of the service but to her surprise he grinned at her and nodded. 

“A proper tea service? Yes please, love,” Sirius said, giving her a wink.

Hermione internally groaned but nodded and bent over to carefully pour the hot water into his cup. After she placed the pot back down she glanced up at Sirius again and pointed to the small milk jug, “Milk?”

“Just a touch and one sugar.”

Hermione nodded and poured a touch of milk, just enough to turn the colour a more opaque shade of brown, and tipped in a single sugar cube. Carefully, she twisted the spoon in the tea cup twice, not letting it clink against the sides of the cup. Satisfied with the colour, she tapped the spoon once before placing it back down on the tray and handing the cup and saucer to Sirius.

Sirius nodded appreciatively and took a small sip, “Perfect, love.”

Hermione grinned and went to work pouring her own tea, only taking a little milk in hers. By the time she sat on the sofa she was impatiently waiting for Sirius to get on with it. She was prepared for anger and annoyance and she knew there was a chance she’d be embarrassed. 

“I’m sorry about what you saw yesterday, love. I usually remember to block the floo,” Sirius said, offering _her_ an apology.

She blinked at him lamely.

Hermione’s brow furrowed - she could feel those small lines creasing between her brows, the ones her mom admonished her for creating lest they become permanent - and actively relaxed her face. She shook her head and placed her cup and saucer down on the table, “Sirius you don’t have to apologize. I should be apologizing! I just showed up unannounced.”

Sirius waved her off, “Oh come off it, love. You know you’re welcome at mine any time of the day or night but I’m sure you’ll hardly want to come ‘round if you think you’ll walk into that again.”

He shook his head as if annoyed with himself but Hermione just tried apologizing again, “It’s your house Sirius, you can do what you like in it. I meant to go over to Harry and Ginny’s and my brain was so fried yesterday I called out Grimmauld.”

“Be that as it may, I just wanted to smooth it over before you come tomorrow for dinner. You are coming, right love?” He asked, pausing to take another sip of his tea. Hermione’s breath hitched when she saw his tongue poke out between his lips to chase an errant drop of the tea.

“I...yes, yes I’m coming tomorrow.”

She let out a strangled breath, pleased that the conversation seemed to be over. They’d both apologized, she was going to go to dinner the next evening and they’d never have to mention the situation again. Of course, Hermione would likely continue to go over those few moments for the rest of her life.

Sirius gave her a grin and ran his fingers through his chin-length dark locks, “Good. I also just wanted to get it out there, so there’s no questions, what you saw yesterday was very much consensual on both parts.”

Hermione felt her eyebrows lift to her forehead at his statement and she tried with all her might to relax them back down to their normal position. _Dear Gods, what did I do to deserve this?_ Whether or not the scene in front of her had been consensual or not hadn’t even registered in her mind. She couldn’t imagine Sirius doing anything that the other person didn’t want.

“Oh, Sirius I never thought it wasn’t. I can’t see you...forcing anyone to do...anything.”

She blushed as she stumbled over her words and tried not to look him in the eyes. She took another gulp of her tea and flicked her eyes over to his cup, seeing it nearly empty. _Please let this be over soon._

“Good girl. I know it was probably unconventional to see but perfectly normal and consensual.”

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip trying not to think about the scene. She wasn’t completely inept, she’d heard of dominance and submission before. What she walked into yesterday was clearly a display of something similar, though in a mostly non-sexual manner. She tried to keep her thoughts from her face but Sirius must’ve caught on.

“Do you have any questions? I’m happy to answer anything,” he mentioned casually. He took one last sip of the tea before placing the cup and saucer back onto the serving tray. He sat back in the arm chair, one leg over the other and crossed at the knee and ankle. 

Hermione’s breath hitched again and she made a noise as if to say ‘no’ but it came out more strangled than she’d intended. Did she have any questions? Not really, not unless you counted _would you put me on my knees?_ She let out a harsh breath at the thought and took her last sip of tea before mimicking Sirius’ actions just moments before.

“Uh, no. No, I don’t think so.”

Sirius nodded but made no move to leave and Hermione sat perfectly straight to avoid doing something entirely embarrassing in front of her _best friend’s godfather_. She looked at Sirius’ face again, their eyes connecting, and she noticed that strange look in them again. The look she’d seen the evening before when he’d had the woman kneeling in front of him.

“Are you friends?” Once the question left her lips, she’d internally cringed and outwardly blushed even more.

Sirius gave a soft chuckle at her question and the noise settled into her torso, travelling down to her stomach before it landed just above her core. The noise, soft and masculine, made her actively clench her thighs together. Had she not been aware of her crush on the older man across from her she’d think there was dark magic at work.

“Yes actually,” Sirius finally said, his eyes still locked on hers. “We’ve known each other for quite some time.”

“That’s nice.”

Hermione grimaced. _That’s nice? Surely, Sirius, it’s nice that the woman who kneels before you is also your friend._

Sirius laughed, this time a real hearty one, and she tilted her head down to the floor at the wash of embarrassment. “It’s alright love, nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said, obviously in recognition of her reaction.

“We both enjoy the same type of...play,” Sirius said. “We’re not together, but she enjoys giving herself up and I enjoy taking it. She just needed some time to quiet her thoughts yesterday.”

Hermione nodded but the questions were running rampant in her mind now. Maybe it wasn’t sexual? How did kneeling quiet her thoughts? When she thought of submitting, she thought of letting Draco swat her arse pink or of Neville’s long-fingered hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing the sides just _so_. But this was something else.

“I can see your thoughts racing,” Sirius said to her quietly. “You can ask me anything you’d like to know.”

Hermione took in a deep breath and wet her lips, “I understand the...premise. I’m not totally...nevermind, I just…”

She trailed off, unable to collect her thoughts into an appropriate question.

“C’mon, love.”

Hermione looked back up at Sirius, “Why was she just kneeling?”

Instead of laughing at her, like she’d assumed he would, he brought his leg down so both of his shoe covered feet were on the ground and rested his elbows on his knees. He looked contemplative, like he was trying to figure out why out of all the questions she’d asked _that one_.

“Well, she’d had a difficult day and needed some time to let her thoughts go. So she came by and asked for some help,” Sirius said. “For someone with her tendencies, kneeling for someone else can be very fulfilling and cathartic, love. It’s time for quiet and focus, sometimes some meditation.”

 _Merlin knows I could use some quiet for my brain_ , Hermione thought to herself. She gave Sirius an appreciative smile for answering her question but kept any others to herself. Did he not like sex? Had she misjudged him entirely? For months she’d thought of nothing other than spending night after night in bed with the older man. 

“I can see another question burning,” Sirius said in a low voice. 

Hermione looked skyward for a second, “Is it not...sexual?”

Sirius lifted an eyebrow but shook his head, “It can be, it just wasn’t yesterday. I enjoy both, though I’m mostly just happy to fill that role.”

Hermione cleared her throat and moved her teacup from its place on the table back onto the tray so she could stand up in a few minutes and move it back into the kitchen. Not to mention, so she could leave this conversation behind.

“The dominant role.”

The reply sneaked out of her lips before she’d even thought about it. She held her breath and hoped Sirius would just ignore it. She really wasn’t trying to prolong this conversation but a quick glance up at Sirius showed her that he intended to.

“Yes, love. The dominant role,” he said with a grin. “Am I correct in assuming you’re...familiar with the opposite role?”

Hermione blushed at the insinuation which did nothing to convince him that _no_ , she was not familiar with the opposite role. She was, sort of, but it was not something she wanted to explain to Harry’s godfather, to the man she’d helped rescue and send in to hiding. She wanted him in her thoughts and dreams, private and sex-crazed. 

She nodded anyways, knowing there was no way out of this one, “You could say that.”

Sirius winked at her and let out a rough laugh, “Oh I knew it, love. You just had that look about you, in your eyes.”

Hermione gathered her nerves and stood from her place on the couch to flick the tray into the air, “C’mon Sirius, you had no clue.”

She encouraged the tray to levitate next to her and walked back into the kitchen where she could still see Sirius but didn’t feel like she had to look him in the eyes. _What a load of shite_ , Hermione thought. There’s no way he would've known that she’d liked it a little rough. Although, who didn’t these days?

An unfortunate conversation with Ginny had even let her know that her two friends enjoyed their fair share of rough sex. Of course, she’d had to drown those thoughts in vodka that night, but once in a while the knowledge slipped into the forefront of her mind. 

She heard his footsteps before she turned around to see he’d leaned against her countertops with his arms crossed over his chest. _When did his arms become so muscular?_ Thick sinewy muscle sat beneath his sweater until she could see veins dancing down his wrists and hands. Subconsciously she licked her lips at the sight of those strong and powerful arms.

“I suspected,” Sirius told her, voice low in a way that seemed to crawl up her spine and across her shoulders. “And that tea service certainly helped.”

Hermione frowned, her own arms now crossed defensively in front of her chest, “It’s traditional.”

Sirius chuckled, “When’s the last time you brought the set out?”

 _Oh._ Hermione bit her bottom lip, openly in thought. She stole a glance back at the tray and tea cups but couldn’t remember the last time she’d dragged the set out. It was normally too much effort, especially for her usual group of friends. Her electric kettle and a few sturdy mugs were perfectly acceptable. 

“I suppose...maybe with my parents,” Hermione finally answered. She still didn’t understand this line of questioning. Tea service _was_ traditional, nothing more than that. She’d only intended to be a good hostess. Really, that’s it.

“And why did you bring it out today?” Sirius asked, smirk settled on his lips.

Hermione huffed out a sigh, “You asked for tea!”

He clicked his tongue at her thrice, in quick succession, and inched his way closer to her, “I asked you to put the kettle on, love. But you decided to bring out the service tray.”

She still didn’t understand his insinuation. At the heart of the assumption, he wasn’t wrong and she’d already practically admitted that much. She stared at him blankly instead and waited for him to continue.

“Did you know tea service is a relatively common skill for a service submissive?”

Hermione’s eyes widened at the implication. _Hang on_ , she thought, _service submissive?_ She might’ve been sexually submissive, maybe even willing to try kneeling for a bit, but a service submissive she was not. She’d served others her entire life, always a greater cause, someone more in need, her boss. 

She fitted her hand against her hip and raised a stiff eyebrow at the comment, “I’m not sure what you’re getting at here Sirius.”

Sirius held up his hands to show he meant no harm, but continued his slow shuffle towards her until he was barely a step away, “I’m not saying you’re a service submissive, or that you’d enjoy that type of thing, just that there are things that you do that make it not so difficult to see that side of you.”

He ended his statement with a wink and twined a finger in her hair, twisting it until he let it go to unwind back to its original state. Her breath was harsh and short, her heart thudding in her chest. _He must be able to hear me_ , she thought, _he must know what he’s doing_. Hermione pressed back harder against the edge of the counter, her eyes glued to his face and swirling grey eyes. She could see the twitch of his lip, the precise cut of his facial hair and underneath it his tanned skin. _Gods was he handsome._

Sirius stepped back, no longer crowding her and wandered back into her sitting room, standing near the hearth. He cleared his throat and inspected the mantle for the pot of floo powder she kept there. Hermione stayed where she was standing, watching as he made his way to stand inside of her fireplace.

“Thank you for the tea,” he said with a grin, ”See you tomorrow, love.” He vanished in a puff of smoke.

Hermione sagged against the countertop, her fingers gripping the edge until her knuckles were white. With a deep calming breath she closed her eyes and tried to shake the feeling that Sirius had left her with. _So: not mad, not upset, convinced I’m submissive and I have to see him tomorrow_. _Lovely_.

With a shake of her head she sent the tea service to wash, dry and put itself away in her cabinets. This was the last thing she needed, another reason to be attracted to him, more thoughts and memories to torment her when she closed her eyes. As it was, he occupied many of her dreams, though those weren’t real. She now had _plenty_ of material though - plenty of real material - to make those things come a bit more alive.

She gracelessly tossed herself onto her couch, lying on her back to look up at the ceiling. She needed to find a Wizard, any Wizard at this point, to get the sexual frustration out of her body before she had to see Sirius again. She didn’t think she could spend an entire evening with him. Even now her thighs were clenched tight, knickers slightly sticky, and their encounter had been all over 20 minutes. 

She needed to find a Wizard, and fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy xx


	3. Three

“More!”

Hermione threw her head back with a groan, curls falling across her shoulders and down her back. The arch forced her breasts up and out, the weight shaking with each push into her core. The hands on her waist gripped bruises into her skin - she could feel it - and she moaned with the knowledge. She moved her hips faster, falling down harder, until the insistent press against her front wall was too much.

“Don’t stop,” she panted, eyes closed and mouth open. “I’m g-gonna come.”

The body beneath her didn’t stop, didn’t go harder, didn’t go faster, just continued the same. Within seconds her body shook, electricity crawling up her spine, the feeling exploding near her stomach all the way to her fingers, her toes and her ears.

A low grunt and a hard shove of the hips beneath let her know he was coming too. She sucked in a breath at the feeling, involuntarily flexing her internal muscles and eliciting a groan from the man lying beneath her. She pressed her palms to his chest, lightly running her fingers through the thin coverage of chest hair and finally patted his chest. With a grimace she lifted herself off, her thighs growing sticky, and rolled off of the bed and into the washroom attached to the room.

She tipped the door shut and immediately headed to the toilet, the last thing she needed was a UTI. She stretched her arms, rolled her shoulders and manipulated her neck back and forth until she felt a satisfying crack. Hermione enjoyed riding a Wizard but the position always took a toll on her back and neck.

After washing her hands she pulled on a thin robe with the hotel’s logo printed on the right breast. It was comfortable, if a little long on her arms, but she mostly just needed something to cover up when she went back out to the room.

With a small puff of breath, she opened the door and let out a sigh of relief when she saw him pulling his shirt on over his jeans.

“Sorry it had to be so quick,” Hermione muttered, leaning against the door frame, still not all the way in the room.

The man in front of her shrugged and flashed her a quick smile, “Not a problem at all. It was fun regardless.”

Hermione looked down to her painted toes with a grin, _it was definitely fun._ She shuffled closer to where he sat on the edge of the bed, to pull on his socks and shoes, and stood in front of him, just watching. When his shoes were tied he looked up at her.

“Maybe we can do this again sometime?”

His arms reached out to wrap around her waist and she allowed him to pull her closer until she was standing between his spread knees. Hermione placed her arms around his neck and leaned down to press a soft kiss to his lips before she nodded. 

“We can definitely do this again sometime,” she whispered with a barely-there smirk on her lips.

He nodded then let go of her waist. She stepped back and followed him out to the living area of the hotel suite, watching as he pulled on his coat and ensured he had his wand and wallet on his person. She walked him to the door and with a small tug on his belt loop, pressed one last kiss to his lips.

“See ya, Granger.”

“Bye, Blaise.”

Hermione let the door slowly close as she watched Blaise Zabini saunter down the hallway towards the elevators around the corner. She wandered back into the bedroom of the suite that Blaise had happily purchased for the day. After racking her brain for eligible Wizards she knew, her thoughts landed on the tall, dark and handsome Slytherin she’d had a few chance meetings with in the last few years.

The next morning she’d sent him an owl, giving him the same proposal she’d given her three previous sexual partners. _I just need you to have a go with me once in a while, no strings attached._ He’d written back to her not even an hour later with the confirmation of a hotel suite and a time to meet. 

He was...good. He reminded her of Draco in some ways: the same tall, muscular body; the same ego-driven need to pleasure her before he took his own. He wasn’t as long as Draco, not as thick either, but he filled her just as well and pressed against the spot on her front wall without an issue. He knew how to use his body to push her over the edge. He also knew how to disappear afterwards.

With a flick of her wand she pushed open the window and settled onto the bench seat, enjoying the cool air against her face. Another flick and she had a lit cigarette in her mouth. Yes, she knew; it was a terrible, filthy habit that permeated her hair. But she was a Witch and perfectly capable of banishing the smell so the only person with knowledge of her dirty little secret was herself.

She took in a lungful of the smoke, letting it out slowly and purposely blowing it out the open window. Was she allowed to smoke in this room? Probably not, but she had dinner to get ready for in just a few hours and she wasn’t going to be able to get through the night without a lungful of smoke and nicotine releasing that sweet, sweet dopamine in her brain.

Hermione ashed the cigarette out the window, watching the burned pieces float down to the ground. The hotel sat on a busy street with cars driving by every few seconds. For a few minutes, she almost felt _normal_. Like she wasn’t a Witch, like someone had taken her on a romantic getaway. She blew out the smoke again and leaned her head on the window frame. It was a nice thought.

Instead, she was a Witch who desperately needed a Wizard to fuck her sideways and banish all thought of that dark-haired older man. She sucked in another lungful of smoke and held her breath, enjoying the way the smoke settled in her chest. After another few seconds she breathed out through her nose, letting the air and tendrils of smoke float up and out through the window.

She peeked at her wristwatch and sighed at the time. She had just enough time to order some soft room service cookies and take a relaxing bath in the beautiful hotel tub. With one last puff on her cigarette, she put it out on the window sill and banished the smoke swirling around the room. With another wave, she removed the smell that so easily permeated her hair and flicked the cigarette butt out the window.

Hermione gave room service a quick dial, ordering two of their soft chocolate-chip cookies and a cold glass of milk, requesting that they just leave it inside her room as she’d be in the bath. Without another thought, she shrugged off the robe, twisted her wand around her hair until it was piled on top of her head and ran the water for her bath. Only once the steam was rising in swirls did she lower herself into the piping hot water.

The water immediately relaxed her tense muscles, starting in her lower back at the base of her spine, all the way up to her neck. Her toes flexed, pulling her calves tight and she groaned at the line of pleasure that crawled up her thighs. If every meeting with Blaise was going to end this way she’d have to do her best to keep him around for as long as she could.

Hermione heard the front door to the suite open and close nearly 20 minutes later which meant the arrival of her sweet snack and she begrudgingly stood from her bath. Her skin was pink from the heat of the water and she watched the water droplets roll down her chest, carving their own path over her breasts, down her belly before catching in the small patch of hair she kept meticulously trimmed and neat. She turned to the side, her eyes taking in the curve from waist to hip to thighs. 

Another slight twist and she took in her backside. She’d been blessed with small handfuls for breasts but a larger than expected arse for the size of her figure. What used to be something she tried to hide with long shirts and baggy pants had very quickly turned into something she purposely showed off. Her collection of tight jeans, cropped shirts and form fitting dresses made sure of that. She couldn’t think of a man she’d been with who hadn’t laved attention to her arse and thighs.

_“How is your arse this perfect?”_

_Hermione giggled and swatted Dean, trying to turn away from where his hands had grasped the globes of her arse. She could feel him gripping and pushing and pulling the flesh until she was sure he’d left indentations from his fingertips._

_“Seriously ‘Mione. And your thighs,” Dean groaned, pressing kiss after kiss from the base of her spine all the way to the flesh where her thighs met her backside. “Delicious.”_

_Hermione arched her back and pushed her arse out, reaching all the way forward with her arms, stretching as a cat would. She bit back a moan at the feeling of Dean’s tongue licking a straight flat line over her cunt._

_“So perfect,” he mumbled into her, his hands once again gripping her arse._

Hermione shook her head of those thoughts and ventured into the suite naked and dripping. With a content grumble from deep within her chest she attacked one of the chocolate-chip cookies and relished in the sweet snack. 

Dean had been the first of her _special friends_ to very apologetically pull back from their time together. He’d met a girl. And then Neville had met a girl. And finally Draco. They’d all met someone who wasn’t her who seemed to fulfill some deeper spot than she ever could. Had she hoped that at least one of her conquests would ask her on a date? Yes. But it just wasn’t in the cards for her.

She quickly polished off the remaining cookie and drank down about half of the milk before she resigned herself to getting dressed and getting ready to head over to Grimmauld Place. She could think of a hundred other places she’d rather go that evening, but she’d already given her positive response that she’d be there. 

She had two options: she could put her clothes back on that she’d arrived in and present herself plainly _or_ she could don the clothes she’d packed _just in case_ and see what happened. She hadn’t packed anything overtly sexual, but the form fitting wrap dress did much more for her than the old ratty jeans and sweater combo. She’d considered dressing up for Blaise but...well he was just going to take it off of her anyways.

She decided to fix her hair and makeup first, allowing more time to think about her clothing choice. Why did she even want to dress up? Surely Harry or Ginny would notice and question her. They’d likely be in informal clothes, as would Sirius. She had nearly talked herself into the jeans, going as far as slipping her feet in, before she changed her mind and without another thought wrapped herself in the dress.

 _It’s still casual_ , she thought, _I just don’t feel like wearing jeans tonight_. 

Yes, if anyone asked, she just didn’t feel like wearing her denims; they could be tight and uncomfortable and pushed into her belly after she’d eaten. That was true enough, she hated going for dinner in her jeans, oftentimes popping the button discreetly while she remained seated. 

Nevertheless, Hermione grabbed her small clutch complete with undetectable extension charm and ensured her clothes and any other belongings were tucked inside. If she also took the complimentary hotel toiletries, there was no one around to notice.

With one last look at the luxurious suite she took the elevator down to the lobby and checked out of the hotel. Once she was outside she slipped her sunglasses on and wandered a few streets over until she came to a covered alleyway where she could apparate. 

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she imagined the front step in front of 12 Grimmauld Place and with a quick spin opened her eyes to see the exact doorway she’d pictured. The door opened before she could knock and Harry dragged her inside the home. 

“I thought I heard someone apparating,” he said, a wide grin on his lips. He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tight, until she made a noise of protest. 

“Just me,” Hermione said with a tight smile. “I wasn’t home and couldn’t floo over.”

Harry gave her a once over and quirked an eyebrow at her dress, “Date?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and scoffed, nudging him out of the way so she could move away from the front door and further into the house, “No. Don’t ask if you don’t want to know.”

That line was universal language for Harry that meant, _this is likely about sex or potentially something worse_ , and Harry put his hands up in defence, “You’re right, don’t want to know.”

Hermione flashed a wink his way and continued into the home she knew almost as well as her own flat. She had stayed at Grimmauld on many occasions through the war and after the war. Sirius always insisted against floo’ing under the influence or worse, apparating under the influence. More than a few Witches and Wizards had found themselves stumbling out of someone else’s hearth or irreparably splinched.

She flew down the stairs to the kitchen and dining area and smiled at the sounds that greeted her. The delicious smell of a roast wafted throughout the downstairs and she peeked her head in to see Ginny seated on a kitchen chair and Sirius knelt in front of her growing belly, an ongoing dialogue spilling from his lips.

“James, as your Uncle Godfather-”

“I don’t think that’s how it works Sirius.”

“Shhhh. James, as your Uncle Godfather, I want you to know you can come to me for anything. Need advice? I’m here for you. Need to keep a secret from your parents? Give me a floo-”

“Sirius!”

“Want to talk about girls? Or guys, for that matter, I don’t judge. You know where to find me. I mean, I did help your father defeat a Dark Lord, so there’s isn’t much you could come to me with that would scare me away.”

“Alright! Sirius, that’s great, you’ve given Baby James - and me - a lot to think about,” Ginny interrupted, pushing her chair back and away from her boyfriend’s Godfather.

Sirius shrugged and gave her a wink, standing back up to his full height and waving at Harry and Hermione standing in the doorway, “Thought you’d be coming in through the floo again, love.”

Ginny snorted and stood from her chair, prancing over to give Hermione a squeeze while Hermione looked pointedly at Sirius, “Yes, well. I wasn’t home so I had to apparate.”

Ginny playfully pinched Hermione’s backside, causing her to yelp and the two men in the room to look over in alarm, “Well clearly, ‘Mione. Hot date?”

Hermione slapped the Witch’ hand away from her derriere and shook her head, “No and like I told Harry, don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”

Ginny gasped, “Who?!”

Harry interrupted with that horrible trilling again, his fingers plugged into his ears and eyes shut as if that would stop the conversation, “I do not want to know!”

Ginny rolled her eyes and wandered over to smack Harry in the back of the head - again, “Alright, alright. Harry! For Merlin’s sake, stop!”

Hermione giggled at the antics of her friends and wandered over to the kitchen cabinets where she knew she’d find place settings. With a wave of her wand she sent the dishes and placemats over to the table, glasses and cutlery following. She reached deep into her clutch and triumphantly pulled out a single bottle of red wine, placing it in the centre of the table. 

“No Ron?” Hermione asked generally.

Ginny shook her head, her hand rubbing over her belly, “Nope, he’s still in Scotland with Lav. I think he’s back this week or the next, I’m pretty sure he said he’d be back before baby James makes his appearance.”

Hermione hummed, “How many honeymoons do two people need?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. Did you know I’m going to be the first Weasley and Prewett to have a child out of wedlock? Mum let me know that little tidbit this morning in her latest howler,” Ginny said nonchalantly, taking a seat down at the table.

Sirius rubbed a hand over her shoulder comfortingly, “I know she’s upset now but just wait, she’ll get one look at little baby James and she’ll forget all about it.”

Hermione snorted, “Well I for one think that’s cause for celebration. Just imagine, you’re the first!”

Ginny sighed and looked longingly at the bottle of wine on the table, a pout on her lips, “If we’re going to toast to me I should at least be able to have a sip of the wine.”

Harry grumbled and sat down next to Ginny, resting his arm on the back of her chair, “Just a sip.”

Hermione internally groaned at the realization that Sirius would be left to sit next to her at the table and she pulled her elbows in more so she wasn’t overlapping into his space. She watched him as he pulled the oven open and levitated the roast and vegetables onto the centre of the table where they could all reach and serve themselves.

With a tap to the oven to make sure it was turned off, Sirius joined them at the table and sat down next to Hermione. She sucked in a breath when she felt his knee knock against hers and bit back a groan when he patted her partially bare thigh in apology.

Clearing her throat, she waved her wand and uncorked the bottle of red wine, pouring a medium sized glass for everyone except for Ginny, who she gave slightly more than a mouthful. With the wine settled and the scent of the roast filling the room, she held her glass up to the centre of the table.

“To Ginny Weasley, the first Weasley AND Prewett to have a child out of wedlock,” Hermione remarked, clinking glasses with the other three at the table. 

Ginny savoured her mouthful of wine and graciously accepted the toast. They each piled their plate with roast and vegetables, their dinner comfortable with varying conversations. Harry told them about his work winding down at the Ministry, Ginny explained she’d be taking leave from her quidditch team and Sirius listened intently. That is, until Ginny asked Hermione how work was going.

Sirius had been nearly silent through the other conversations, making affirmative noises and nodding or shaking his head depending on the comment. But the second Hermione started talking, he was all of a sudden full of questions.

“Do you see old Lucius often?”

Hermione side eyed Sirius, a piece of broccoli hanging from her mouth and slowly nodded, “I mean, yes. I do work for his company. He works from the office more often than not.”

Sirius hummed and sliced into a piece of roast, “And my dear cousin?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him but nodded again, “Yes, I see Draco too. Unless you’re referring to Narcissa, who I don’t see.”

She would’ve been happy to let the conversation go there, but of course Harry had more to add, “Zabini told me he’s officially courting Astoria, whatever that means.”

Hermione held her breath, eyes flicking over to Ginny who looked at her in question. Hermione just shrugged, “Yes, I’d heard that too.”

“From the source, I’m sure,” Ginny muttered quietly, popping a roasted carrot into her mouth.

Hermione kicked her foot in the direction of Ginny’s chair but her eyes went wide when Harry flung his piece of roast across the table and shrieked, “Ow! Bloody fuckin’ hell! Who did that? Which one of you kicked me?”

“Oh Gods Harry, I’m sorry! It wasn’t that hard!” Hermione insisted, already half out of her chair with her wand in her hand. 

Ginny waved her hand, “Ignore him. He defeats a Dark Lord and all of a sudden he’s the most breakable Wizard on Earth.”

Hermione let out a deep breath and sunk back into her chair, offering Harry another apology. She glanced over to Sirius and noticed the confused look on his face. She only offered him a shrug and went back to eating her dinner. Harry and Sirius took over most of the conversations from then on, and Hermione just offered her reactions.

When they finished, Ginny surprised them all by offering to clean up the kitchen, waving her wand in a large arc until all of the dishes patiently waited their turn to be dunked into the warm and soapy water in the sink. A flick from Hermione and the dishes shook themselves dry and floated back to their respective cabinets. Harry and Sirius headed upstairs while Hermione and Ginny got tea and dessert ready and Hermione glowered at Ginny to avoid the questions she knew were coming.

“So…” Ginny started, her hands resting on her back to support her belly. “Who’s the new guy?”

Hermione grumbled and set the water to boil, pulling down mismatched mugs from the cabinet, “You can’t tell anyone, or make other comments like you did at dinner tonight.”

Ginny nodded, “Alright, alright. No one understood it! You brought more attention to my comment by kicking Harry in the shin.”

“Well I was aiming for your shin,” Hermione muttered. “It’s Blaise.”

“Zabini?!”

Hermione rolled her eyes and poured the now boiling water into the mugs, “Do you know another one?”

Ginny tossed a teabag in each mug and gathered the milk and sugar pot, “How was he?”

Hermione was about to answer when a figure appeared in the doorway, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows and exposing thick tendons and muscles covered in dark tattoos, “How was who?”

Hermione cleared her throat and threw a glare at Ginny, “Oh, no one. Just boring work stuff.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows but nodded and walked closer to the two Witches. He patted Ginny’s belly softly, “I’ll help ‘Mione with the tea, I want to ask her something anyways.”

Ginny quickly looked over to Hermione but nodded in agreement, “Sure, ‘Mione you know how I like my tea.”

Hermione just nodded and turned to face Sirius, her arms automatically crossing in front of her. She knew it was a defensive move, knew it would let Sirius know that she wasn’t entirely comfortable. But it was one thing to decide to wear her wrap dress and another to let Sirius have a clear and uninterrupted view. 

“What can I help with?” Hermione asked softly. She could really use a cigarette right about now. She imagined the soft tendrils of smoke filling her lungs, the nicotine hitting her brain.

Sirius hummed and took a few steps closer to her until he was crowding her in front of the counter. She could feel the steam from the mugs of tea behind her, against her back, and she squeezed her thighs together.

“You seem uncomfortable, love.”

Hermione bristled and let out what sounded like a hiss, “I’m not.”

Sirius nodded and shrugged his shoulders, “Your shoulders seem tense and you were a little jumpy at dinner.”

He ran a finger along her wrist, arms still crossed in front of her. Hermione’s breath hitched and she shook her head, “Nope."

“Hm. Well, if you’re sure,” Sirius moved back from her and waved a hand to toss the teabags into the trash. He then poured a dash of milk into a mug followed by a single sugar cube. Hermione knew that was his preference. 

She turned to finish preparing the rest of the tea when he spoke again, “Stick around after they leave, alright love?”

Hermione cleared her throat and finished adding milk and sugar to the mugs, collecting them with a flick of her wand and encouraging them to float along next to her, “Why?”

“I can help you relax,” Sirius said softly. “If you’re interested.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another one :) I can attest to luxury hotel chocolate-chip cookies, they really are the best.
> 
> Enjoy xx


End file.
